Between Worlds
by Hippothestrowl
Summary: At their lowest ebb, would Harry and Hermione continue their Horcrux quest alone if they had another choice: the use of a Time-turner? When the magical kingdom becomes more unbearable than Privet Drive ever was, might Harry find release between worlds? Begins in Deathly Hallows after Ron has abandoned Harry and Hermione.


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_So far... This short story begins during Deathly Hallows some weeks after Ron has abandoned Harry and Hermione, and they are at their lowest ebb. Now read on... _

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**Between Worlds**

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~~~ Knot in Time ~~~

With December came a drop in temperature but Harry's spirits could sink no further. He gazed mournfully as his map thrashed angrily in a sudden icy breeze from the tent entrance. Suppressing a sigh, he tilted his chair forward then closed the tent flap upon the weather and yet another chapter in his life. Keeping watch seemed to have lost all purpose — Ron was not coming back and Harry had finally accepted the ongoing pain he had brought upon himself.

He looked across at Hermione, curled up stiff and silent on her seat with yet another slender volume of _Seven Forgotten Curses_. Her puffy, reddened eyes showed clearly she was still half in denial. White knuckles clawed to another page... and Harry lowered his gaze once more to dwell on Ginny's situation at Hogwarts.

A cold, tight feeling gripped his chest but it was not the effect of the locket that he wore. The portrait of Phineas Nigellus had let drop a few snippets of information. Snape was having to deal with a hard core of resistance. He had restricted student gatherings and Ginny had been banned from Hogsmeade. When Harry also recalled her attempt to steal the sword from his office, it was evident that she must be continuing Dumbledore's Army, almost certainly with Neville and Luna's help.

As he dwelt on this scant knowledge of her fate, and stared at her name on the map, he longed to be with her — to give help, support, and encouragement. He brushed his hand across the map as if to sweep away the aching inside. Sirius gone, Dumbledore killed. Ron gone. How much more could he endure? He closed his eyes tight. If only he could shut out forever everything that had happened... and then he remembered that he could.

A movement at the edge of his vision indicated Hermione had stood up and was using her wand to excitedly mark a place in her book. While she was distracted, he fumbled the map into his bag, and, as he did so, his hand closed guiltily upon something else. What if...?

Hermione gasped quite audibly.

"You kept it, didn't you?" she said accusingly.

"Kept what?" said Harry, bringing out his empty hand.

Hermione scowled. "You know exactly what I mean, Harry — the Time-turner you found in Umbridge's office."

"It's the only one that survived — and I wasn't going to leave it for her to use!"

"But we agreed you would destroy it!"

Harry fell silent for a while. Hermione sat down again and re-opened her book.

"Hermione, you remember why it survived, don't you?" said Harry, at last. "The information I found with it?"

"Of course, I do! It was the one created by Madam Eloise Mintumble in 1899 and kept in a cursed vault because it could cause such serious catastrophes!"

"But we already have a catastrophe!" cried Harry. "How could this be worse!"

Hermione held up her book and opened her mouth as if she were about to say something but Harry continued, "I could go back and save Cedric! Save everyone! Sirius! Dumbledore!"

"No, Harry, that would resolve nothing; there is only one point in time that will."

"But I've had enough! Why should we—! What did you say?"

"I said there is only a single moment in the past where we can fix everything. It is a knot in time. You have to place your finger on that knot to unravel the tangle we are in. Anywhere else would simply snarl up the threads even worse."

Harry stared at Hermione, trying to make sense of what she had said. "You've... you've already been thinking about using it?"

Her jaw tightened and she seemed to be bracing herself to say something. "Harry... I can't... I don't want to go on." She lowered her head but she was not looking at the book in her lap.

"Hermione..."

"No... hear me out..." But Hermione still seemed reluctant to speak her mind.

"We could save Dumbledore then," said Harry. "He'll know what to do."

"No."

"Sirius..."

Hermione shook her head. "Harry, the dials on the device indicate months, do they not?"

He nodded. His gaze flickered towards his bag, but he did not take out the implement.

"Then you must go back twenty-eight of them, that's when everything goes haywire; that's where the knot is."

She watched his expression puzzling it out. "The Dementor attack! The Dementors in Little Whinging at the start of August that year! I can tell myself not to go out that day!"

"No, Harry, that is exactly what you must not do. It is important that you let them attack you, and you must never, ever speak to your previous self directly. There is only one person who can save you, and you must speak to no one else."

"Who?"

"Ginny Weasley."

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~~~ Magical Revenge ~~~

A thrill of excitement coursed through Harry Potter at Hermione's words. "You want me to speak to Ginny? I thought we... that I shouldn't ever..."

Hermione put her book into her beaded handbag and took out her wand. "Come on, we need to prepare. I want you to put a curse on me."

Harry blinked rapidly. "Have you lost your mind!"

"It's a difficult spell. You need to learn it thoroughly so you can show Ginny how to put it on you — or rather on your self in August, 1995."

Harry blinked some more. "Why?"

"It's called the Curse of Vengeance. All the details are in that thin red book in my bag. I wish I'd known about it before."

"What does it do?"

Hermione hesitated. "Harry, I don't know of any protection against You-know-who but if he..."

"If he does try to kill me then..."

"He dies."

"So it's a rebound shield?"

"No, Harry..." Hermione paused and her throat tightened. "It's death for death. It only wreaks vengeance if he... kills you."

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~~~ Hermione's Sacrifice ~~~

The second day of December was as bitterly cold as the first, and tendrils of frost had crept inside the canvas walls at ground level.

"Let's go," said Hermione, briskly, as she finished cleansing the breakfast dishes. She looked at her wand strangely for a few moments, then put it away, pulled on her thick travel cloak, and headed outside.

"Hermione, where exactly are we off to?" said Harry when they finally had the tent and all their equipment stuffed safely away in her enchanted bag.

"Stoatshead Hill."

"But Ginny's at Hogwarts until Christmas."

"She won't be."

Hermione grasped his hand before he could answer and they Disapparated. It took Harry a few seconds to orient himself.

"The Burrow is in that direction," said Hermione. She pushed her bag into his hands. "You understand what must be done?"

"Yes, at least as far as — what's this for?"

"All the other details are in the envelope at the top of my bag."

"But..."

"Give me the locket, Harry. It's my go."

Harry frowned. He had lost count of whose turn it was, but it seemed too soon. Reluctantly, he handed it over. He noticed Hermione did not put it on but slipped it into her pocket.

"Well... goodbye then, Harry."

Harry stared through several steamy breaths of air until he could speak. "You're not...? What...? Won't you...?"

"You'd better go. No point in hanging about, is there?"

"Go?"

"Oh, Harry, the Time-turner. Set the dials to 28"

Harry did as he was told, but mechanically, as if in a dream. "But... you're coming too?"

"No... I'm unnecessary."

Harry felt his throat constricting. "But you can't stay here without protection! You'll freeze to death."

"I promise you, I won't."

"Then what will you do?"

"The moment you press that button, I will cease to be."

Harry sank down to a crouch on the frosty grass of the hillside as if he had been punched in the stomach. His voice was a feeble whisper when he spoke. "I d-don't understand... N-no w-way... why c-can't you come with me?"

"But there won't be any 'you' to be with much longer, will there? Harry, I thought you understood? When you finally give your message to Ginny then you too will cease to exist. I thought you knew."

Harry gulped.

"Don't you see?" continued Hermione. "That single event will undo the knot and all the messy tangle — we two with it. The resulting ripple will flow forward in time then back with you, but it can never get past the triggering event itself — the message; that's impossible."

He nodded dazedly, not really understanding. A minute passed before he could stumble to his feet again. Another passed as he looked at his friend smiling wanly back at him.

"You have to do it, Harry." Her breath hung in the air like a sentence of death.

His face screwed up tightly and he could feel hot tears on his cold skin. Hermione hugged him one last time then... his arms were empty, the air was hot, and the grass somehow thicker underfoot.

He spoke only to the desolation within him, "Hermione?" He knew deep down that she had done what he could not — she had pressed the Time-turner for him and he would never see her again.

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~~~ Brief Encounter ~~~

Harry pitched his tent closer to The Burrow. He cast concealment charms, then kept watch while he studied Hermione's notes and, utterly estranged from everyone, he wrote his own last message. It seemed ironic, he reflected, that right now he was also in his bedroom at Privet Drive, feeling thoroughly miserable at the forced separation from his friends.

On the next day he thought he distantly glimpsed Ginny in the Weasley garden but he resisted the urge to go to her for he well knew who else was there. It was not until the 5th when, as Hermione had predicted, Ginny ventured alone into the orchard, and Harry, with everything packed into Hermione's bag once more, squared his shoulders and set out to meet her. He looked at his watch; one hour was all he had...

From behind a tree, he watched her softly crying. Hermione had not warned him of this — perhaps she had not known the reason for Ginny's seclusion. Probably the twins had played one prank too many. He dare not wait.

"Ginny?"

An electric shock seemed to startle Ginny up from the warm grassy slope where a myriad of tall fruit bushes gave her cover from the house. The sun caught her hair as it swung like a flame across her cheek then back to rest lightly on her shoulder. She blinked rapidly, mouth agape, as she looked around. "Harry? How...?"

"Have Fred and George been having a go at you again?" Harry walked tentatively forward. He knew he'd have to explain himself quickly.

"Uuh... oh, yeah... Fred and George..." She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and stared. "Dad said you weren't supposed to leave the house. He said... Harry! You're... are you alright? You look..."

"A few drops of Ageing Potion. I was bored on my own all summer. It's wearing off." He lowered himself to sit behind the same concealing bushes, pulling Ginny down with him. He pushed Hermione's bag into her hands. "Can you trust me, Ginny?"

"What is it, Harry? What's wrong?"

"You must on no account speak to anyone about this and do not let anyone see that bag."

He drew his wand. "Ginny I need to teach you a spell. It's a... a protective spell I want you to cast on me. I can't do it on myself."

"You want _me_ to do it?" She nodded, looking pleased to be of use.

Perhaps it was Harry's attitude of urgency but she learned faster than Harry had. Even so, over twenty minutes elapsed until he was satisfied with her wand action. "Okay, go ahead for real now."

"And this will protect you?"

"Well, it'll help a bit. But keep it quiet. Tell no one."

Ginny smiled. She was sharing a secret with Harry Potter.

"Vindicta." She murmured it as softly as a sleeping charm while gracefully impressing Harry with her wand casting. "How was that?"

"Brilliant! But you must use it once more upon me next week to fix it properly. Can you do that?"

"Of course." She grinned at him, enjoying his approval and his trust.

They sat and talked for many minutes as insects buzzed around them in the hot sun, and a breeze occasionally whispered through the apple trees. In all that time, Harry could not take his eyes off her, as if dazzled by a light that blinded him to all else.

"Still seeing erm...?" Harry racked his brain trying to remember who Ginny had been seeing before Dean. "Neville?"

"Neville? I only went to the Yule Ball with him. No, I'm seeing Michael now — Michael Corner."

Harry felt as if a lump of cold clay had solidified in his stomach, yet he heard himself say, "I don't want you to. I want you to see me instead."

Ginny's eyes widened. She searched his face but seeing that he was serious, found herself unable to speak. When they fell into a comfortable silence, his hand took hers of its own volition, and he surprised her with a kiss. Blushing, she half-pulled away, then kissed him as vigorously back, still with the same look of astonishment, joy, and surrender as when he had first asked her to be his.

"I have to go soon, Ginny. When you see me again in a few days, you must ask no questions about this meeting — but I won't object if you want to kiss me," he added hopefully. "Erm... you might want to wait an hour or two as I'll probably be a bit grumpy after being stuck with the Dursleys. Oh, one more thing. Would you send me an owl? I mean today? A really good long letter? Ignore what Dumbledore said. You can't imagine how... cut off I've been feeling. Just talk to me. Tell me... tell me You-know-who had to go into hiding, to delay his plans because of me. Yes, that should cheer me up a bit... but mainly just talk to me. Can you do that?"

She nodded vigorously and giggled. "What's happened, Harry? What changed... Why... You're not normally so..."

"Let's just say I don't have much... time. Here's my wand — take good care of it will you?"

"Your... wand? But what...?" She held it limply, shocked, as if he had passed her his arm.

"You will shortly be going with your family to Sirius's home for a few days to help clean up and dispose of years of accumulated junk. In one of the glass-fronted cabinets in the drawing room is a cursed locket bearing the letter 'S'. On no account must it be thrown away. Take it and hide it well. Do NOT let the old house-elf see it or he will try to steal it from you. I'll join you later but I won't remember any of this except how I feel about you so you must use all your powers of persuasion to convey to me what is in this..."

He took out an envelope with her name on it — but he held it back.

"All you need to know is in here. All that I ask of you is in here. You're the only one, Ginny, the only one who can trust me enough without question, and the only one I will trust in return. Promise me you'll do as I ask."

There was something in his tone that both thrilled and puzzled and frightened her, but she said simply, "I will."

A deep aching pain shot through him then. He could hear voices far off in the Weasleys' garden but his hand felt so heavy he could not move it to offer her his final message.

He lost himself in her eyes; the world had long since blurred away. "Take it Ginny."

She took it without looking away from his face then he was no more.

"Harry?"

There had been no movement of air such as accompanies a Disapparition, no Portkey swirl nor flash of Floo — he simply no longer was. There was a sense of finality that cut her heart and turned her to stone. Quite some time elapsed before she could read Harry's letter.

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~~~ Secure Transfer ~~~

"You are requesting what, Mr Potter?" said Griphook. "A complete withdrawal in Muggle denominations? That is over 800,000 pounds sterling and will take a few hours to organise."

"No, I want you to set up a new Muggle account for me in the name of David Brown, transfer 750,000 and the remainder I wish to take now in cash, half in Muggle money, and half in Galleons."

Griphook did not bat an eyelid but inclined his head in assent. It seemed to Harry that the goblin was used to clandestine financial arrangements because he continued, "That I can do immediately, Mr Potter. Please sign this form as D. Brown. I will need to conjure other Muggle identification and a proxy collection address. If you prefer, I can purchase a physical Muggle house in your new name, Fidelius Charm included, shall we say for, 250,000? Should I proceed?"

Harry quickly agreed.

"It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr Potter."

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~~~ The Hearing ~~~

Early in the morning of 12th of August, an owl flew into Mrs Figg's backyard carrying a message apparently from a little girl called Jenny begging for help with a sick cat that had been found on Woking common.

At 7:45am, as Mr Weasley led Harry towards a Ministry lift heading upwards, Harry rather nervously recited what Ginny had made him rehearse, "Oh, didn't you see the owl that came just before we left? They changed it to eight o'clock down in Courtroom Ten."

"What!" Mr Weasley, dashed across to the lifts opposite, dragging Harry along with him. "Good job we came early!"

Despite having prepared himself, Harry gasped as he entered the basement chamber — it was the place he had visited inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the place where he had watched the Lestranges sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. He braced himself, trying to remember everything Ginny had told him.

A cold male voice rang across the courtroom.

"You're early."

"Sorry," said Harry nervously. "I — I erm..."

"Take your seat."

Harry took the chair in the centre of the room, trying not to flinch at the sight of the chains. It was hard and uncomfortable. Feeling rather sick, he looked up towards the people seated at the bench above.

There were about fifty of them, all, as far as he could see, wearing plum-coloured robes with an elaborately worked silver 'W' on the left-hand side of the chest and all staring down their noses at him, some with very austere expressions, others with looks of frank curiosity.

In the very middle of the front row sat Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic.

"Very well," said Fudge. "Let us begin. Disciplinary hearing ... into offences committed under the Decree for ..."

As he droned on, Harry tried to block out everything except going over the words Ginny had made him learn by heart.

"Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the..."

Harry closed his eyes. Had it been Sirius who had said Madam Bones would behave fairly towards him?

"So, the charges..."

Fudge extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read out, "The charges against the accused are as follows:

"That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of..."

Harry focused on the ceiling far above. Then he decided to focus on the kiss that Ginny had smothered him with soon after he had arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place. What had possessed her he neither knew nor cared. He smiled to himself.

"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

"Erm... sorry? Oh, yes," Harry said.

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes."

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?" said Fudge.

"Yes."

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?"

"Yes."

"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?"

"Yes."

"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?"

"Yes." Harry glanced nervously at his watch.

"You don't deny it?" said Fudge. There was surprise in his tone.

"No."

"Then let us waste no more time and put it to the vote." He sounded both delighted and relieved.

There was much whispering. When it stopped. Harry wanted to look up at the judges, but found that it was really much, much easier to keep thinking of Ginny's hug, and trusting everything she had said.

"Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?" said Madam Bones's booming voice.

Harry's head jerked upwards. There were several hands in the air but before he could count them, Madam Bones had said, "And those in favour of conviction?"

Fudge's hand went up first but most of the gathering quickly followed.

The Minister glanced around at them all, looking as though his birthday had come early. "Well, well, well ... convicted of all charges. The prisoner will step forward and surrender his wand."

Harry forced himself to his feet and stepped towards the bench as if wading through treacle.

"Your wand?" repeated Fudge.

"Oh... er, yes." Harry pulled out the wand that Ginny had given him and handed it over.

"Do you swear this is your wand?"

"I do."

"We'll see..." He gestured to a figure who, until now, had sat in shadow in a far corner. It was Ollivander the wandmaker. Harry's throat suddenly went dry.

"Aaaah, yes," said Mr Ollivander, his pale eyes gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember."

He examined the wand closely. Harry cringed inside but tried not show it.

"Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. I made this wand myself. It is the wand of Harry Potter."

There was no ceremony. Fudge took it firmly between the fingers of his two hands and, as he snapped it in two, declared, "Harry James Potter is hereby expelled from Hogwarts school, banished utterly from the Wizarding community, and all his wizarding bank assets are sequestered."

An ear-splitting noise that sounded as if a ghoul was being scolded drowned out all other sounds in the room. Within moments, a large bat-like Patronus burst through the wall and thundered above the racket:

"_There is a magical emergency. A critical prophecy has been broken and an Unspeakable of the Department of Mysteries will advise the Minister for Magic almost immediately."_

'Almost immediately' turned out to be several minutes. It was nearly 8:07am before the strange siren came to an abrupt end leaving a great many still shouting at one another unnecessarily. Harry felt a ringing in his ears. He wondered if he could leave. He turned and started towards the door just as Professor Dumbledore rushed through from the other side with Mrs Figg in tow. They were followed by a middle-aged man wearing a monocle.

"Minister, my witness was delayed by... am I to understand that a verdict has already been—" Dumbledore broke off when he glimpsed Harry then quickly looked away.

"Dumbledore! Do you know anything about this... this... abomination!" cried Fudge, waving his hand as if at the dreadful noise they had suffered.

The man who had entered with the headmaster stepped forward. "Allow me to explain..."

"You are?"

"Bode... Broderick Bode, Unspeakable. A world-critical prophecy is rare and even more infrequently does it happen that the one about whom it is made dies before it is fulfilled. In fact, it is unheard of."

"And who would that be?" demanded Fudge. "The one in the Prophecy, I mean."

Bode looked down at a piece of parchment in his hand. "Harry James Potter."

Harry gasped. He wanted to sit down and now eyed the chair with the chains rather enviously, but Dumbledore was already making himself comfortable there. He seemed to be enjoying the occasion.

"You nincompoop! Potter is right there!" cried Fudge.

"Minister, if I might offer an explanation?" said Dumbledore, politely.

"Oh, very well," said Fudge grudgingly.

"Prophecies can only ever be about members of the magical community. If, as I presume from the snapped wand on your bench, you have banished Mr Potter, then he can never access the prophecy."

"You mean no one can ever know what the prophecy was about?"

"No one, except the one to whom it was originally given, Minister."

"And who might that be?" He said it in the tone of one who already suspected the answer.

"It was to myself that the prophecy was given," said Dumbledore.

A loud murmuring swept through the gathering and Fudge glared at Dumbledore. "Well?"

The headmaster took a deep breath. "The prophecy foretold that Harry Potter might have defeated Lord Voldemort. Clearly, because of the actions of the Wizengamot today, that is no longer possible, so the Ministry itself must take on the burden of overcoming the Dark Lord."

For once, Fudge was speechless.

Madam Bones, who had turned quite pale, spoke, "But such a prophecy proves that He-who-must-not-be-named _must_ come back, or may already be back, does it not?"

"That is true, Madam. Mr Potter here, has already defended himself against the Dark Lord on several occasions — once only a few weeks ago as I reported at the time."

"He ... is ... not ... back!" bellowed Fudge, his face turning a dark shade of puce.

"If I may, Minister," said Bode, "A magical emergency is proof of the authenticity of this prophecy and therefore of the fact that You-know-who must return or, more likely has already done so. Logically, the latter is the most reasonable explanation. Surely a few drops of Veritaserum would confirm—"

"There will be no Verit—!" thundered Fudge.

"Minister, there is a simple solution," interrupted Dumbledore. "Let Mr Potter lodge an appeal, overturn the verdict, then all is well."

Everyone could see Fudge thinking about this rather furiously. "Very well, case dismissed." He started to rise.

"I'm afraid, Minister," said Madam Bones, "the case has already been tried. An appeal is essential."

Fudge groaned. "You, boy, you must lodge an appeal."

Harry's moment had come. He knew what to say."On what grounds?"

"On... wha...!" blustered Fudge, whose features were now so dark that his face looked like a red cabbage. "On the grounds that you were attacked by Dement— by uuh, something or other, of course!"

An astonished silence descended within the huge stone chamber. A robe rustled and its echo was heard across the room. Madam Bones was the first to speak.

"Dementors? In Little Whinging? How do you know, Minister? Who authorised this?"

"Well, I, er..." Fudge's face was now tinged with scarlet and his thoughts could almost be visualised racing through his pulsing temples. "Simple assumption, wasn't it? Naturally, why else would one cast a Patronus Charm? Obviously, the boy thought he had seen a Dementor. Probably a Muggle in a big raincoat."

Harry piped up, reciting a script he had well-rehearsed, and delighted he had not needed to use other lines to bring out this truth, "I will lodge an appeal if the Ministry Records relating to the authorisation of Dementors on the 2nd of August can be made public. Otherwise, I have no case to appeal."

For a few moments, Harry thought that Dumbledore was going to look at him, but he didn't.

"That is reasonable. I will arrange that," said Madam Bones. "It will take a few hours, perhaps a day." She turned to an assistant. "Ensure the month's records are locked immediately."

"Thank you," said Harry. Now he had no hesitation in walking to the exit.

"You there!" thundered Fudge. "Where do you think you are going!"

"Am I under arrest?" said Harry, innocently. Somehow life seemed so much easier when you had an answer prepared for every eventuality.

Madam Bones answered. "We shall inform you when the information is publicised and then you can lodge your appeal. Currently, you are not even a member of the magical world so you are not under our jurisdiction. You are free to go wherever you wish."

"Thank you," said Harry, and strode out the door with the sense that Dumbledore's eyes were boring into his back.

"How'd it work out?" said Mr Weasley, who had been waiting anxiously outside.

"Brilliant!" said Harry. "Let's go and celebrate!"

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~~~ Peaceful Progress ~~~

Dumbledore smiled grimly at the lengthy owl message he had received. Someone — he knew not who — had presented Harry Potter with astonishing information that changed everything. Six Horcruxes! The news had come as a terrible shock when first he read the message, but as he surveyed the heavy locket that came with the letter, and confirmation of the whereabouts of the ring of Gaunt with cautionary warnings of curses, he experienced a sense of progress at last.

He went to the window and looked out across the towers and turrets of Hogwarts castle to beyond. His best efforts to find Harry Potter had failed so he was reasonably confident that Voldemort would fare no better, for the time being at least. The Weasley girl's weekly trips beyond Hogsmeade Dumbledore would not pursue further. How she disappeared and reappeared he wished not to investigate — the boy had earned, and deserved, his freedom.

That Harry had never lodged his appeal now made sense. The threat of Ministerial interference at the school had been lifted. The intensive investigation of Fudge and Umbridge had resulted in them being deposed and sent to Azkaban. Everyone now accepted that Voldemort had returned and many of his supporters were subsequently imprisoned. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister for Magic, had wisely entrapped the Dementors in their own misery — away from the Dark Lord's influence. There was now no possibility of his most dangerous Death Eaters escaping. Various factions, including the giants, had been persuaded to join the forces for good. Progress indeed!

He returned to his desk and surveyed the locket once more. The cup of Helga Hufflepuff was now certain to be a Horcrux too, for in the Pensieve he had viewed Riddle's hunger for them. That, in turn, suggested a third relic of the founders might be the final Horcrux apart from Nagini of which he already new. Likely an artefact of Rowena Ravenclaw would be the Horcrux, for it could not be Gryffindor's sword — he would have a word with Flitwick and every ghost and portrait in the castle until it was found. His gaze moved to the bottle of Veritaserum that also sat upon his desk. Soon he would pay a visit to the Lestranges in the wizarding prison; that should reap dividends.

But what of Harry Potter? Dumbledore sighed. Everything came back to him in the end, prophecy or no. When finally, Lord Voldemort confronted him, had the boy prepared himself sufficiently? His letter indicated confidence in Voldemort's demise should Harry himself be killed. Now, if Dumbledore could be there to deal with Nagini first, then all would be well — Lily Potter's blood protection would see to that. Dumbledore nodded to himself; he would make certain to be there.

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~~~ Epilogue ~~~

On Harry Potter's 17th birthday, the youth smiled as he raised his wand for the first time in two years. It was fun living between two worlds — Magic and Muggle — but now he could perform magic again without being traced it would be even more enjoyable. Ginny giggled at his side; it would be a long, lazy summer, let the future take care of itself.

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The End

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* * *

**Author's Notes**

_The above was almost entirely written in one day in a blaze of furious ideas that poured out quickly. It was created in response to a challenge on the SIYE fanfiction website asking what might Harry do if he found a Time-turner during the Horcrux hunt._

_I like the beginning and middle of the story but the ending was not so strong as I'd hoped. I couldn't see where else to take it without it becoming tedious. :( The implication is that Dumbledore would destroy the remaining Horcruxes, Voldemort would at some point kill Harry. Harry would immediately return from some Kings Cross experience because of his mother's blood in Voldemort. The Vengeance Curse would kill Voldemort (after all, he did kill Harry.) So everything would work out fine. Well... erm... not for Voldemort obviously._

_The story assumes there is a law of the universe that blocks time paradoxes just before the moment of change — hence the message survived but not the delivery boy. However, since that then had already happened in the past, Hermione ceased to exist the moment she despatched the delivery boy. Otherwise, when? It might not make good sense but it made good drama right?_ :)

_Eloise Mintumble is Pottermore canon I believe so I used her to give some authority to there being this one Time-turner._

_It is arguable that a child might still perform magic untraceably within a concealed, unplottable home._

_I deliberately left it ambiguous as to whether Harry, Ginny, or Dumbledore ever knew or worked out that the future Harry had travelled back in time. I leave it to the reader. Perhaps the message explained everything? Perhaps the earlier Harry knew everything from Ginny. Or not._ :)

_I also left it ambiguous as to whether Hermione had worked out from Harry's vision connection with Voldemort that he was a Horcrux, and that was why she was excited by the Curse of Vengeance. Or maybe she simply thought well, if Voldemort does kill Harry, at least he will pay the price._

_Hope you enjoyed it anyway._ :)

_Many thanks for all comments and reviews. These are most welcome and very encouraging._ :)

**- Hippothestrowl**

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